


Wingspan

by poky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Obliviousness, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Wings, a bit fluffy, a bit of everything really, castiel soulmate, castiel soulmate au, it's a bit angsty, that's a thing, the Whole Nine Yards, there's no wing!kink really but let's be real, there's some mutual pining, you all wish there was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poky/pseuds/poky
Summary: Castiel is an angel of the Lord. His wings, above anything else, make this evident to you. He's guarded but kind, and you put your trust in him regardless of the danger. But the secrets he's hiding prove to be deadly and you're the one who has to pay the price.





	1. Voice of an Angel

 

You leaned back in your seat and took a swig of beer, tossing down the now-empty bottle and grabbing another. Bobby gave you a slightly bemused glance. “Those things will kill you, you know.”

“No quicker than I’ll go anyways,” You said with a shrug, popping open the top and taking a gulp. “Such is the life of a hunter.”

“Heh. Ain’t that the truth.” Someone pounded on the door, and Bobby pushed himself to his feet. “I got it, kid.”

You shrugged in acknowledgment, continuing to nurse your beer and listen as Bobby opened the door. You couldn’t quite pick up what was being said from where you were seated, but you did hear the sound of a scuffle. Shooting to your feet, you set down your beer in favor of your gun, and the sight you came upon wasn’t quite what you had been expecting.

“Dean?” You managed to get out, though your voice sounded strangled. You didn’t let your guard down, though - Dean, your big brother and idol, had been dead for months, damned to hell after he sacrificed his soul for Sammy’s life.

Bobby was able to knock Dean back, and you kept your gun trained on your brother’s impostor. “Bobby, it’s me!”

“My ass!” Bobby snarled, heading towards him again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!” You and Bobby paused at Dean’s command, the man holding up a hand. “Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed. You’re about the closest thing I have to a father.”

You glanced at Bobby, questioning what the older hunter wanted you to do. “Who’s she, then?”

“That’s Y/N Y/M/N Winchester, my baby sister and Sammy’s twin. She used to hide in the back of the Impala on hunts and ended up saving my ass from a ghost once,” Dean said, his eyes pleading with the two of you. “Bobby, Y/N… it’s me.”

You dropped your gun slightly. Could it really be him? It seemed unlikely, but you knew that Sam had been searching for a way to bring Dean back. You hadn’t seen your twin in months, so who knows what he had been up to? Bobby approached Dean slowly, cautiously, touching his shoulder as if to confirm that your brother was really here, really real.

Then he attacked again, and Dean yelled “I am not a shapeshifter!” as he wrestled with the older hunter.

“Then you’re a revenant!” Bobby exclaimed. “Y/N, help me out here!”

“I don’t have a shot!” You exclaimed. “Besides, what if it’s really him?”

“Thank you, Y/N!” Dean said, shoving Bobby away. He now had the silver knife in hand. “Alright. If I was either, would do this with a silver knife?” He rolled up his sleeve, pressing the knife into his skin and drawing a cut that oozed blood. Your heart stopped. It was him, it really was Dean. Or… it was a demon.

“Dean?” Bobby asked softly, looking as if he might cry.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Dean said. The two men embraced, hugging each other tightly, and you wondered if Bobby had just overlooked the whole demon thing. But Bobby splashed him with holy water when they pulled back, and you remembered who you were thinking about.

“I’m not a demon either, you know,” Dean said, spitting out some of the water.

“Sorry,” Bobby said. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Dean,” You whispered, setting down your gun.

“Heya, Y/N,” He said, scooping you up in a tight hug. You buried your face into his chest, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.

“I missed you so much,” You mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I missed you too, kiddo. I hope you’ve been staying out of trouble.”

“Me?” You scoffed, the two of you pulling away. “Never.”

He squeezed your shoulder affectionately. “Good.”

Bobby tossed Dean a towel. “So you just crawled out, huh? That don’t make a lick of sense.”

“Yeah, well, you’re preaching to the choir,” Dean agreed, patting his face dry as the three of you walked into Bobby’s study.

“Dean, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, _and_ you’d been buried four months!” Bobby said. “Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meatsuit -”

“I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject,” Dean said.

Bobby gave an amused snort in agreement. “What do you remember?”

“Not much,” Your brother said, shaking his head slightly. “I remember I was a hellhound’s chew toy, and then lights-out. Then I come to six feet under. That was it.”

Alarm bells rang in your head - Dean was lying, and you knew it. You always knew when your brothers were lying, even moreso when it was about something as big as this. But you also knew that now was not the time or place to confront him about it. “I’m glad you don’t remember anything,” You said.

“Yeah, so am I. Hey, so Sam’s number’s not working. He’s uh - he’s not…” Dean floundered.

“Oh, he’s alive, as far as I know,” Bobby said.

“He’s alive. I’d feel it if he wasn’t,” You confirmed. “It’s a twin thing.”

“Good.” Dean looked understandably relieved. “Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?”

“We haven’t talked to him in months,” I explained. “I tried to get him to come back, stay with us, grieve, but he wouldn’t. He exploded, yelled that I didn’t care about you, and stormed off. I haven’t seen him since.”

“You’re kidding,” Your brother said, shocked. He turned to Bobby. “You just let him go off by himself? You should have been looking for him!”

“Dean, you know as well as I do that no one forces Sam to do anything. We both figured that he’d come to us when he was ready, not before,” You said patiently. “He’s a grown man, and like it or not, we couldn’t just keep him prisoner.”

“Well, I’m glad at least one of you had sense enough to stick with Bobby,” Dean grumbled.

“Like Y/N said, we tried. But these past few months haven’t exactly been easy you know. For any of us. We had to bury you,” Bobby said.

“Why did you bury me, anyways?”

“I wanted you salted and burned - usual drill - but Sam wouldn’t have it,” Bobby said. “And neither would Y/N, for that matter.”

“Well, I’m glad you and Sammy won that one, Y/N,” Dean said.

Bobby shrugged. “He said you’d need a body when he and Y/N got you back home somehow.”

“Y/N and Sam?” Dean asked, shooting you a look.

You got defensive. “You had just died, Dean, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was with Sam for a while, over a month, and we willing to try anything to get you back. But Sam was coming more and more unhinged every day, and the demons wouldn’t deal. I told Sam I was going to stay with Bobby a while, to clear my head. That was when we got into the fight I was telling you about.”

Bobby eased himself on to his desk. “We’ve tried to find him since then, tried callin’, but he don’t want to be found.”

“Dammit, Sammy,” Dean groaned.

“What?” Bobby asked.

“Oh, he got me home okay,” Your brother snapped, “but whatever he did, it is bad mojo.”

“How do you know?” You asked. “I mean, even if Sam did get you out, who’s to say it wasn’t by some other way?”

“You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off,” Dean explained. “Then there was this… this force, this presence, that, I don’t know, but… it-it flew past me at a fill up joint. And then there’s this.”

You and Bobby leaned forward as Dean slipped off his button up and pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt. On his arm was the burn of a handprint, red and fresh. You and Bobby both came closer, and it was clear that your father figure was just as confused as you. “What in the hell?”

“Yeah, it’s like a demon just yanked me out,” Dean said.

You pursed your lips. “Or rode you out.”

“But why?” Bobby asked.

“To hold up their end of the bargain,” Dean said.

Bobby frowned. “You think Sam made a deal?”

“But I told you before, none of the demons would deal. They weren’t going to tamper with one of Lillith’s contracts and risk their hides, even for the souls of Sam and Y/N Winchester,” You argued.

“Maybe he was able to find one that was willing,” Your brother said. “After all, it’s what I would have done.”

* * *

Dean managed to track down Sam by use of your brother’s cell phone GPS. Your twin was camped out Pontiac, Illinois, much closer to where Dean had resurrected than you had anticipated. A seed of doubt was planted in your mind. Maybe Sam _had_ made a deal. You would have thought that your twin would have told you if he had been able to, at least.

The three of you headed Sam’s way almost immediately, and you couldn’t be happier when the five of you were reunited once more. It took some explaining, but after a while you had confirmed that Sam hadn’t made a deal - which meant something else had pulled Dean out. Problem was, you had no idea what. Bobby had suggested seeing a psychic, so that’s where all of you were headed. You were sprawled out in the back of the Impala, Sam was in shotgun, and Dean was blasting classic rock as he drove. Never before had you relished something so mundane.

The five of you arrived around nine in the morning, and you were greeted by a cheerful woman whose name you learned was Pamela. She was friendly and hit on your brothers, much to your amusement. She told you that she was going to perform a seance, try to get a peak at what had pulled Dean out.

The five of you were gathered around a table. You were seated in between Sam and Dean, and you all were holding hands. Pamela had her hand on the mark whatever-it-was had left on Dean. You closed your eyes, listening as Pamela chanted. “I invoke, conjure, and command you to appear unto me before this circle.” The TV flickered on of it’s own accord after a couple times, and you opened your eyes, meeting Dean’s confused ones. “Castiel? No, sorry Castiel, I don’t scare easy.”

You and Dean both jerked your heads towards Pamela. The name held a sort of familiarity you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Castiel?” Dean asked, as the table began to rattle.

“It’s name,” Pamela explained. “It’s whispering to me, warning me to turn back. I conjure and command you - show me your face.”

“Maybe we should stop,” Bobby said, as the shaking grew worse. Sam gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, as if sensing your unease.

“I almost got it,” Pamela snapped. “I conjure and command you, show me your face. Show me your face now!”

The candle flames shot up, and you, Sam, Dean, and Bobby watched, horrified, as Pamela’s eyes burned away amidst an awesome, terrifying sort of light. She collapsed, and it took Bobby’s voice to snap you and your brothers out of your horror. “Call 911!”

Sam shoved away from the table, obviously spooked, as he grabbed his phone and dialed the number. You and Dean dropped to Pamela’s side. You took her hand, which she gripped tightly, and she cried in fear as she opened her eyes - which were just sockets. “I can’t see! I can’t see!”

“Pamela, it’s Y/N, listen to me,” You ordered gently, taking charge as Dean and Bobby merely exchanged looks. “We’re all right here, and you’re going to be okay. Sam is calling an ambulance, okay, just hang on.”

* * *

After Pamela had been taken to the ICU and you, Sam, and Dean had an unexpected chat with some demons, the three of you were back at the hotel. Dean was asleep, comatose after reading, and you were dangerously close to being the same way. You barely registered Sam slipping out of the room. You had nearly fallen asleep when, without warning, all the electronics started going haywire. Both you and Dean jerked awake, scrambling for your guns.

“What’s going on, Dean?” You asked, looking around wildly for something to shoot at.

“Hell if I know!” He exclaimed. “This is the same thing that happened in the gas station!”

There was a faint ringing, and it quickly grew louder, but it didn’t really hurt you, it was more of a… nuisance. A nuisance that you realized were words, as glass shattered and Dean tossed away his gun with a groan in favor of clamping his hands over his ears. The words became louder and sharper, and they were now easy for you to make out.

 _“Dean Winchester! Can you hear me? Dean!”_ The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, and you couldn’t find a source no matter how much your eyes searched the room. _“Dean! Just listen to me! Dean!”_

“What are you?” You whispered, not hearing the answer to your question as every shard of glass in the room shattered. With a startled yell, you staggered out of the way, the voice fading as the door banged open and Bobby entered.

“Y/N! Dean!”

* * *

The two of you got Dean, who had fallen unconscious, loaded into Bobby’s car, and you climbed into the backseat. “What the hell happened, kid?” Bobby asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Dean said that it’s like what happened at that gas station.”

“Well why was he writhing around on the floor while you looked like you were perfectly fine?” He pushed.

“I don’t know, nothing makes sense,” You said. “Nothing of what’s been happening makes any sort of sense!”

Dean awoke with a groan as you were speaking. Bobby glanced over at your older brother. “How you doing, kid?”

“Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy,” Dean said sarcastically. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Just fine,” You said.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Bobby said. “You’re laying on the floor with your ears bleedin’ and your sister is looking around like she saw a ghost.”

“Heard,” You muttered.

“What?” Dean asked. “How the hell are you fine, that ringing was excruciating!”

“You didn’t hear someone talking?” You asked, glancing between your brother and Bobby. The two men exchanged nervous glances.

“No. You did?” Dean asked. You nodded. “Well, what did the voice say?”

“He was calling you. Just asking if you could hear him, over and over again,” You said. “Do you think it was Castiel?”

Your brother ran a worried hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

“You couldn’t hear a voice at all?” You had to make sure. Dean shook his head, and you wondered if you were going crazy. “Why am I the only one that can hear it? What the hell is this creature? No demon could do this.”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out,” Dean said. After a phone call to Sam, he made a decision you weren’t expecting. “We’re going to summon this thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“You can’t be serious,” Bobby said, apparently holding the same doubts as you.

“As a heart attack. It’s high noon, baby.”

Bobby stared, shocked. “We don’t even know what it is! It could be a demon, it could be anything!”

“Maybe not, but we know that whatever it is, it’s after me. I mean, we got the demon-killing knife and an arsenal in the trunk,” Dean said, jerking his thumb back with a shrug.

“This is a bad idea,” Bobby groaned.

Surprisingly, you were with your brother on this one. “I agree, but like it or not, Dean is right. We have to figure out what’s going on.”

“Besides, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it’s after me - that much we know, right? Well, I got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand,” Dean said.

“Dean, we could use Sam for this one,” Bobby said. He still wasn’t convinced.

“No, he’s better off where he is,” Dean said. “He’d just try to stop us.”

“Well, let’s do it, then,” Bobby said with a sigh. “We’ve got our work cut out for us.”


	2. Angel of the Lord

Bobby drove the three of you to an abandoned barn, removed from the city’s populace. If whatever had pulled Dean from the pit really was malicious, then there wouldn’t be anyone around for it to harm. You and Bobby set to work painting all sorts of wards, traps, and sigils from every religion, dead or otherwise, while Dean traveled back and forth between the car, toting in the small arsenal that Bobby carried in his trunk.

“That’s a hell of an art project you got going there,” Dean said, examining a knife as Bobby finished the spray painting the last symbol.

You leaned back against the table with a sigh. “Go big or go home, I say.”

“Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe,” Bobby said, shaking his head at you. “How you doing?”

“Stakes, iron, silver, salt, a knife,” Dean said, gesturing to each item as he listed it, “I mean, we’re pretty much set to catch and kill anything I’ve ever heard of.”

“Let’s just hope it’s enough.” You picked up one of the stakes, turning it in your hand.

“This is still a bad idea,” Bobby said slowly, shaking his head.

Dean sounded like he was getting frustrated with the older hunter’s repeated statement. “Yeah Bobby, I heard you the first ten times.”

“It’s not like we have much other choice,” You pointed out.

“Like hell we don’t! We could lay low, do more research, try to figure out what sort of thing could do this,” Bobby exclaimed. “But there’s no stopping you knuckleheads, apparently.”

“Yeah, well, it runs in the family,” You quipped.

Dean snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?”

Bobby gave the two of you a look that was less-than-pleased, walking over to the table that held the summoning ingredients without a word. Your older brother’s eyebrows flicked upwards. “Someone’s in a mood,” He muttered, just low enough for you to hear.

You shrugged, murmuring your response. “Wouldn’t you be, if it was the other way around?”

“I guess so,” He said quietly as Bobby began the summoning spell. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, as it was - nothing happened when the spell was completed. Not even a whisper disturbed the place, and eventually you and Dean had pulled yourself on to one of the tables. Bobby had hoisted himself up on to the table opposite of you, weapon in his lap as he whistled softly.

Dean sighed impatiently, dropping the knife so that it chipped into the table. “You sure you did the ritual right?” Bobby gave him a venomous glare. “Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?”

You elbowed your brother in the ribs. “Maybe it just takes a while to take effect. It’s not like any of us have done this before.”

As if on cue, the flaps of the roof started rattling wildly, prompting the three of you to rise to your feet and take your weapons into your hands. “Wishful thinking, but maybe it’s just the wind,” Dean said.

A lightbulb burst behind you, followed by the rest, causing the three of you to duck out of the way. “Somehow I doubt that!” You said over the noise. The doors broke open of their own accord, the beam that had been secured across it splintering as if it was nothing. Lights continued sparking and exploding, and bright stars danced in front of your eyes. Gunshots echoed as you, Dean, and Bobby fired off shots at a figure, but nothing seemed to stop him.

The bulbs stopped sparking as he stepped past all the traps and symbols you and Bobby had painted, and you let out a gasp that was inaudible due to the noise. The man, who was clad in a tan trenchcoat, would have appeared completely normal if not for the two large, dark wings that sprouted from his back. The three of you stopped shooting as he drew closer, grabbing your respective close-range weapons, though you were now hesitant to kill him.

Before you knew it the winged man was right in front of you, giving the three of you puzzled looks as Dean gripped the demon-killing knife tightly. You had to skitter out of the way to avoid his wings, and his blue eyes flicked towards yours momentarily, holding mere curiosity. You had a sense that this being wasn’t a threat, and if it weren’t for the fact that his wings were a dark, near-black color, you’d say he was an angel.

“Who are you?” Dean demanded, staring at the man warily.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” The man said, staring at Dean as if your brother was his old friend. And, if the words were true, perhaps the being did consider it so - if Dean truly didn’t remember anything about his stint in hell, then he wouldn’t remember the being raising him up. You realized that this winged man must be Castiel, though he wasn’t quite what you were expecting. Something more threatening, perhaps, but not this - ruffled hair and gentle, almost innocent eyes.

“Yeah,” Dean said, lips bared in a snarl, “Thanks for that.”

Castiel nodded, apparently not catching your brother’s sarcasm, and simply glanced down at the knife Dean had buried in him with a sort of bemused smirk. He pulled it out, dropping it to the ground. Dean glanced at Bobby, who took the silent cue to attack, but he grabbed Bobby’s weapon without even looking, turning slowly to face the older hunter. Placing two fingers to Bobby’s temple, Castiel simply gazed on calmly as your father-figure collapsed.

Both you and Dean stared at Bobby in shock. Was he dead, or merely unconscious? You sorely hoped it was the latter. The winged man turned towards you, eyes questioning. “Are you going to try and attack me, too?”

“Are you a threat?” You asked, regarding him.

There seemed to be a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though it quickly disappeared. “I believe you already know the answer to that.”

“Y/N?” Dean asked, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you.

You set down your weapon. “It’s okay, Dean. He’s not going to hurt us.”

Dean looked at you, incredulous, but Castiel had already moved on to bigger things. “We need to talk, Dean.” His eyes darted between you and Bobby. “Alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” You muttered.

“She stays,” Your brother ordered. “Whatever you have to say to me can be said to her.”

Castiel pursed his lips. “Dean -”

“She stays or no deal,” Dean snapped, crouching down by Bobby.

The winged man let out a sigh, examining the contents that lay on the table. “Very well. Your friend is alive.”

“Who are you?” Your brother asked, looking up at him.

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, I figured that much,” Dean said, looking annoyed. “I mean, _what_ are you?”

Castiel looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

“I thought angel’s wings were white,” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Dean and Castiel said together. Your brother looked utterly confused, while Castiel looked surprised.

Dean slowly rose to his feet. “Y/N… what do you mean you thought that angel wings are white?”

“You can’t…” You gestured mutely towards Castiel’s dark wings. “You can’t see them?”

“No, Y/N, I can’t,” Your brother said, lightly pushing you behind him as he glared at the angel. “Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.”

“This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith,” Castiel said. Thunder crashed outside and lightening flickered as he spread his wings, making a point to Dean. Because even if your brother couldn’t see them, he could still see their shadow.

Dean nodded slightly, though he was wearing the look that said he was not at all pleased. “Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman’s eyes.”

“I warned her not to spy on my true form,” Castiel said. “It can be overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice… but you already knew that.”

“You mean the gas station and the motel?” Dean clarified. “That was you talking?”

“It was your voice I heard!” You exclaimed. The angel nodded wordlessly.

“Buddy, next time, lower the volume,” Dean said.

“That was my mistake,” Castiel said. “Certain people - special people - can perceive my true visage. Your sister, for example, is one of them. I thought you would be as well. I was wrong.”

Your brother regarded the angel with something close to contempt. “And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?”

“This? This is a vessel.” Castiel tugged on his clothes lightly.

“You’re possessing some poor bastard?” Your older brother asked, and you had to agree.

“Aren’t angels supposed to be better than that? I mean, that’s some demon-level shit right there,” You pointed out with a frown.

The angel looked unfazed. “He’s a devout man. He actually prayed for this.”

“Look pal, I’m not buying what you’re selling, so who are you really?” Dean demanded.

Castiel’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I told you.”

“Right. And why would an angel rescue me from hell?”

“Good things do happen, Dean,” He said, moving closer.

“Not in my experience.”

“Dean,” You said softly, grabbing your brother’s arm. “I don’t think he’s lying.”

“What’s the matter?” Castiel tilted his head, blue eyes questioning. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

“Let me get this straight. Dean, my older brother and the most selfless man I’ve ever met, doesn’t think he deserves to be saved,” You clarified. “Dean, you’re probably the only person in hell who deserved that.”

“Just drop it, Y/N. Why’d you do it?”

“Because God commanded it,” Castiel said slowly. “Because we have work for you.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Dean snarled, crouching down to pick up Bobby. “We’re going.”

“Wait, what?” You questioned. “Dean, we can’t just -”

“We’re going!” He snarled. You took a step back, surprised, and glanced towards Castiel. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about than a so-called angel, so you either come with me or I leave you to walk back to the hotel.”

You clenched your jaw. “Fine. I’ll just…” You grabbed all the weapons you could, sending Castiel an apologetic look as Dean took Bobby out. “Sorry about him. For what it’s worth, I believe you.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” He said quietly. “It means more than you know. I’ll be in touch.”

“Just don’t shatter all the glass again, eh?”

“I won’t.” His lips flickered upwards into a smile. “Be careful out there.”

“I will,” You said.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted.

“I’ve got to go. See you later, Castiel,” You said, heading towards the door.

“Farewell,” The angel said, waiting until you were gone from his sight to teleport away.

You dropped the weapons you had gathered into the trunk before climbing into the passenger side. “Dean…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” He snapped. “Just call Sam, tell him what happened.”

You sighed, flipping open your phone to dial your twin brother. He picked up on the first ring. “Y/N? Where the hell are you? I come back to the hotel room in fragments and you, Dean, and Bobby are nowhere to be found!”

“We’re fine, Sammy. I’ll explain everything, but the short version is that the whole room situation was a result of an angel - Castiel,” You said briefly. “Of course, we didn’t know it at the time so Dean, Bobby, and I decided to face it head on.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam snickered, “you got attacked by what?”

“I’m serious, Sam,” You said, irritated. “And he wasn’t attacking us. Just trying to communicate, though not in a way Dean could understand.”

“Not in a way Dean could understand?” Sam echoed. “Does that mean you can?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah. Didn’t get an explanation for that one. Dean’s not happy about the whole thing.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. Angels? That’s a bit far-fetched, even for us,” He said. “And you’re absolutely sure?”

“I mean, I could see his wings, so I’d say pretty sure,” You said with a shrug.

“You could see his wings? That’s insane. Could Dean?”

“No. I’m assuming it has something to do with being to understand his true voice, too, but we’ll have to do more research,” You said.

“Yeah, it sounds like it.” Sam sounded understandably incredulous. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

“Half an hour or so, probably,” You said. “But I’m exhausted, so we’ll have to chat about all this in the morning, when I’m actually awake.”

“I gotcha. Drive safe,” Sam said.

“Will do. See you soon, Sammy.” You ended the call, leaning your head against the window and closing your eyes. Bobby was still snoring in the backseat, and Dean was staring blankly out the window. The three of you had achieved your objective of figuring out what had pulled Dean from hell, but it hadn’t been very enlightening. If anything, it had left more questions than answers.

And more questions was something none of you needed.


	3. The Midmark Seal

When Castiel appeared a week after the fight with Alistair, looking grave and war-worn, you knew it meant nothing good. You had conflicted feelings about the angel - on one hand, you had the overwhelming sense that he could be trusted, but on the other hand, you knew he wasn’t being completely honest with you about something.

“Castiel,” Sam said awkwardly, standing to greet the angel as Dean did the same. “What’s wrong?”

That seemed to be the prompting Castiel was looking for, because he launched straight into his explanation. “I come bearing bad news - the demons have successfully broken thirty-two of the seals, though we know which one they will be breaking next.”

“What? How?” Dean asked. “There’s hundreds, how could you have narrowed it down?”

“Because they’ve reached the Midmark Seal,” Cas explained. “The next seal is the halfway mark to the sixty-sixth, which means that like the first and the last, there it is a seal that must be broken. If we can stop them here, they won’t be able to free Lucifer.”

“Alright, that’s sounding pretty good to me,” Sam said. “So what’s the seal?”

Castiel hesitated. “The Midmark Seal is also referred to as the Soulmate Seal.”

“Soulmates?” Dean repeated with a scoff. “They don’t exist.”

“Not among humans, normally,” Cas conceded. “Soulmates are an angelic concept, rather than a human one. God, our father, made each angel a perfect other half. Usually, it’s another angel, but on incredibly rare occasions, an angel’s soulmate is a human. In order to break the Midmark Seal, a human soulmate of an angel must be killed.”

“Then we just need to round up the humans that are angel soulmates, right?” Dean said. “Keep ‘em safe. Problem solved.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Castiel said. “Even if you did round them up, they’ll be eternally hunted by those that wish to free Lucifer. And if you fail, you won’t just have the demons to contend with anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Soulmates are sacred among angels, human ones especially, as mortal lives are so fleeting. If you fail to protect one of the human soulmates, you will invoke the wrath of the angel whose soulmate has been killed.”

“Yeah, we don’t want that,” Dean said with a grimace. “So how many are out there right now?”

“Currently, there are three, and two are already secure under the protection of both their soulmate and an additional legion of angels,” Castiel said, his wings ruffling uncertainly.

“So we just need to find the third,” Sam said, relaxing. “Who is it?”

“A teenager by the name of Thomas Baron,” Cas said. “He is unaccounted for, as he found a way to conceal his soul, which would otherwise be a homing beacon for angels and demons alike. Which is… fortunate, but also troublesome. It is likely that Thomas has no idea of the danger he’s in.”

“So we find him,” You said easily. “In case you haven’t noticed, finding people is kind of our thing. Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

“For all our sakes, I hope so,” He said gravely, and despite his seemingly calm front his wings twitched agitatedly behind him, though they stilled when he sensed your gaze on him.

“This’ll take some time,” Sam said, already typing away on his laptop. “You sticking around?”

“I think that’s best, yes. That way, I can look after- er, monitor your progress,” Cas stuttered. You furrowed your brow - Cas _never_ stuttered.

“Right,” Dean said slowly. “So, the other two? Who are they?”

“The first is Ainslie Gibson - her soulmate is another from my garrison, though you’ve never met him,” The angel said, looking suddenly uneasy.

Dean prompted Cas when he showed no inclination of continuing. “And the other?”

Castiel’s eyes flickered to yours so quickly that, if you hadn’t already been watching him, you would have missed it. His wings were pulled tight to his back, a movement you had learned meant he was self-conscious or uncomfortable. “Is safe. Which is all you need to know.”

“Why can’t we know?” Dean asked. “If we know, at least we’ll be able to provide help if necessary.”

“Besides, it’s not like it’s our sister or anything,” Sam said with a snort, not looking up from the computer screen.

“Of course not.” Had he _hesitated_?

Before you could find out, Sam spoke. “Got him.”

“That was quick,” Dean said, peering over his brother’s shoulder. “Guess he’s not as good as covering his tracks as he is his soul.”

“Which means the demons may already have him,” Castiel said, his voice unwavering once more. “I must alert the other angels, and even you can admit we need all the help we can get, Dean. Where is Thomas hidden?”

“He’s hiding out somewhere in Kosciusko, Mississippi,” Sam said. “Population is around seven thousand, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.”

“Good. Gather your weapons, we must leave as soon as possible,” Cas said gravely, though you and Dean were already headed for the Impala.

“I think he’s hiding something,” Dean said, once the two of you were outside and out of earshot.

You nodded in agreement, shoving a few weapons into a duffel. “I got that impression too. He was very evasive.”

“You don’t think one of those human soulmates is his, do you?” Dean asked, glancing over at you.

“I guess it’s possible. But he said it himself - the two that are accounted for are already with their soulmates. And as you can see, he’s here, so it has to be something else.”

“Maybe. Still, keep your ears peeled, he’s bound to let something slip eventually,” Dean said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. You did the same as he closed the trunk of the Impala. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of worrying about that now, so we’ll just have to trust him.”

Castiel’s face was even more grave than when you had left him just a few minutes ago. “I’ve received word from the other angels - it seems the demons already have him. They’ve warded a warehouse, so none of them can enter. Sam, Dean, it’s up to you.”

“Right, because I’m chopped liver,” You said sarcastically. “We’ll need to get rid of the sigils from the inside, try and take out as many demons as we can. They’ll probably be expecting us, but hopefully we can get in without causing too much of a stir.”

“There are sigils along the outside too,” Cas said. “Y/N, you’ll need to take care of those, because even if Sam and Dean get the ones they undoubtedly have inside, we still wouldn’t be able to get in.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said with a nod. “It’ll mean you’re in less danger, Y/N. We’ll clear a path and you can follow behind with Cas and the other angels.”

“Alright,” You agreed. “Let’s get this done.”

* * *

There were several angels waiting for the four of you to arrive. Unlike Castiel, their wings were conspicuously absent, though you knew now wasn’t the time to ask questions. You had to save Thomas if Lucifer was to remain in the cage. However, with the way the other angels regarded you, it was hard not to.

“Castiel,” Asked one, stepping forward to address him, “I know we must save Thomas, but is bringing her here wise? Do we give them two chances to break the seal instead of one?”

“Whoa, whoa, what’s she talking about, two chances instead of one?” Dean asked. “Y/N isn’t a soulmate.”

Another angel spoke, shock heavy in his voice. “You haven’t told them?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Castiel snapped, wings flaring out angrily. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, we need to get into this building. Sam and Dean have agreed to go inside while Y/N gets rid of the sigils around the outside.”

“I suppose that’s as safe of a plan as any… all things considered,” The first angel, a dark-skinned woman, said slowly.

“Like we have any other choice.” The third of the five angels grumbled.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what the hell is going on,” Sam snapped. “What haven’t you told us, Cas? Because it’s pretty obvious you’re hiding something important, and we can’t risk this seal breaking because you wanted to keep a secret.”

“Yes, Castiel. Tell them,” Goaded the second angel that had spoken. “Tell them what you’ve been hiding.”

Castiel looked like he wanted to strike him down on the spot, but resisted, instead turning to the three of you. He opened his mouth, but his voice seemed stuck in his throat, so one of the others spoke instead. “Y/N is a soulmate.”

“Whose?” It was a question that fell off your lips without thought, and your brothers seemed so frozen you doubted they were capable of saying anything at all.

“What, you haven’t figured it out yet?” Scoffed the fourth angel.

“Peace, sister,” Soothed the fifth, whose voice was surprisingly gentle. “She has received quite the shock. It’s your friend Castiel - you can see his wings, can you not?”

Your world was spinning, but you forced your feelings down, knowing that you’d have to deal with them later. Right now, you had bigger problems than an angel who hadn’t been entirely honest with you. Your voice, when you finally spoke, was surprisingly steady. “Whether I can or not, we have to save Thomas. Every second we waste out here is another chance for him to be killed by a demon. We don’t even know if he’s alive, so until we can prove otherwise, he’s our top priority.”

“She’s right,” Dean said, glancing over at you, a silent question in his eyes. _Are you okay?_ You gave him a slight nod. “Soulmate or not, someone still has to get rid of the sigils on the perimeter. At least out here, the rest of you can keep an eye on her. She doesn’t go in, Cas takes her somewhere safe once the perimeter is clear.”

“Okay,” Said the first angel, nodding. “We don’t have much other choice. We’ll eliminate the demons standing guard so that the two of you can get in, and so that we can take care of the sigils.”

Four of the five angels that you had met disappeared with the sound of flapping wings - only the fifth stayed, plus Castiel. Said angel looked as if he wished to say something, but decided against it. Instead, the fifth angel spoke. “I am Abiel.”

You inclined your head. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He said, giving both Sam and Dean a friendly smile. “And these are your brothers. I’ve heard a great deal about them.”

Dean smirked. “All good things, I hope.”

Sam gave Dean a disapproving look. “Dean.”

“What?”

Abiel looked as if he was trying not to laugh. “Very impressive things.”

“Hey. I can work with that,” Dean said, sending Sam a grin.

Sam didn’t return it. “Dude, can you please take this seriously? Not only are we trying to rescue Thomas, who will die if we don’t and break this seal, but our sister is apparently Castiel’s soulmate and in just as much danger as the kid in that warehouse!”

“Guys, let’s not do this now,” You said, stepping in to their conversation before it could go too far. Dean had already opened his mouth to respond, likely with some sort of biting retort, though he had snapped it shut when you spoke. Castiel looked far from comfortable - guilty would probably be a better word to describe his current countenance, and Abiel was politely acting as though he had gone mysteriously deaf.

“Fine,” Sam sighed, running an anxious hand through his hair.

It was at that very convenient moment that two of the four angels reappeared. “The perimeter is clear, and two of us stayed behind to silence any demons that may emerge.”

“Good,” Castiel said. “Sam, Dean, remember that we have no way of aiding you inside until all the sigils have been removed, so I urge you to err on the side of caution.”

“We will,” Dean said with a nod. “Oh, and Cas? If anything happens to our sister, we’ll kill you.”

Castiel’s face was grave. “If Y/N perished under my watch, Dean, I’d thank you for it.”

Evidently, your older brother didn’t have a good response to Cas’ statement, and there was an awkward pause as Dean tried to figure out what to say. “Right, well, we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. But for now, we’re just wasting time - the kid needs us, so let’s get this done.”


	4. Angel of Death

“Stay near me,” Castiel ordered, walking beside you. Abiel flanked your left side, and one of the angels walked in front of you while the other walked behind you. It was odd, having an angelic entourage, and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not. After so many years of having only Sam and Dean watching your back, being guarded was an odd thing.

“You two go join the others at the entrance,” Abiel said. “Castiel and I will be enough to guard Y/N, and they may need the reinforcements.”

The angel in front of you looked back at Castiel for confirmation (and you safely assumed that the one behind did the same), and when Cas nodded they disappeared with the soft sound of rustling feathers.

“There’s the first sigil,” You said, pointing towards a symbol that was painted on right by the front door, where two angels stood guard. “I’ll need spray paint.”

“I’m on it,” Abiel said, disappearing then reappearing only moments later, a bag of spray paint cans in his hand. “I hope this is enough.”

“More than,” You said, nodding in approval, taking a can from the bag. You shook it as you approached, uncapping it. Castiel was tense as you quickly sprayed over it, making sure the sigil was broken before moving on. “Are there any more on this wall?”

“Over here.” Abiel waved you over to the opposite side of the door, where another sigil was painted. Cas trailed closely after you, wings twitching agitatedly. You sprayed paint over that sigil too, stepping back once you were finished.

“Where to now?” You asked.

Castiel spoke. “We can work our way around.”

The three of you made your way around the first corner, making note of the large window in the middle. “Watch the window.”

“Hurry,” Cas said as you spray painted over another sigil.

“There’s one on the window,” Abiel hissed.

“We’ll just have to risk it,” You decided after a moment. “We have to get rid of those sigils. So we make sure no one is looking and spray over it - I’ll be subtle.”

“It’s not like we have any other choice,” said Abiel, frowning in a way that said he wasn’t happy with it either.

“Stay with Abiel, I’m going to look in the window, make sure it’s clear,” Castiel said, creeping forward towards the large window. You stayed close to the wall, aware of Abiel hovering just behind you, close enough that his breath stirred the hair by your ear.

You glanced back at him. “Could you please stand back a lit-”

You never got a chance to finish your sentence. A hot, spearing pain exploded in your back, shoving its way through your body until it had spread to every part of you. You only had time to give a strangled cry of shock before you fell to your knees. Abiel knelt beside you, one hand on your shoulder, the other still wrapped around the angel blade that had been shoved violently upward through your torso.

“You’re too trusting, Castiel!” Abiel yelled, vicious taunt in his voice. “Far too trusting.”

He pulled the blade out of you harshly, and time seemed to slow to a drip, seconds feeling like minutes. You tasted blood in your mouth, sharp and bitter. You saw Castiel’s face transform from one of horror to pure rage. You heard your heartbeat in your ears; it was slow, sluggish, unsteady - struggling with every beat. Then you were toppling forward, though the darkness that washed over you like a wave made sure you never felt yourself hit the ground.

* * *

You sucked in a breath, time snapping back into motion. But you weren’t _you_ \- no, the real you, the tangible you, was lying deathly still on the ground, blood still pouring from a wound. Castiel was screaming, yelling, an anguished sound that sent chills to your very core. He killed Abiel with the blade that was still dripping with your blood, by your side before the other angel’s body had even hit the ground.

“It’s too late.” You jumped at the sound of a voice from behind you. It was a girl, with dark hair and sympathetic eyes. “He can’t save you.”

“You’re a reaper.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” She said. Her voice was soft, reassuring. “It’s time, Y/N.”

You knew you were crying, but you didn’t do anything to wipe away the tears. “I don’t want to go.”

“You died an honorable death - fighting the fight. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No,” You whispered. You thought it was. But it wasn’t.

“You have to choose,” She said. “Are you going or staying?”

Castiel looked up, blue eyes staring right at you. There was an immeasurable sadness in them, home to a deep-seated ache that weighed on your chest. You had caused that expression. His voice came out in a cracked whisper when he spoke. “Go.”

Her voice was gentle. “Well?”

“I’ll go,” You said.

She smiled, stretching out a hand for you. “Good.”

You stared at Castiel for one more, long moment before taking her hand and stepping into the light.

* * *

You were standing in Bobby’s house. You turned around slowly, looking around. It didn’t look very different from the real one, but the Bobby that stepped in from the kitchen was one that was much younger. “I know you’re not happy your dad left you here, but it’s not all bad, kid. There are worse places to be.”

“Yeah,” You said slowly, furrowing your eyebrows as you tried to figure out what was going on. “I guess so.”

“I made you lunch, come eat something,” He told you, and you followed him to the kitchen table as you realized with a start that you _remembered_ this. Dad had dropped you off at Bobby’s, claiming it was because he wanted to keep you out of trouble when you both knew it was because you had hesitated on a hunt and nearly gotten Sam and yourself killed.

“Thanks, Bobby,” You said, sitting down at the table. You stared at the sandwich. Was this heaven, just reliving your happy memories over and over? Bobby continued speaking to the space where you were sitting, even as you got up and walked away, running a distressed hand through your hair.

“…so what do you say I teach you how to fix up some cars later? Make it somethin’ you can do with Dean and your dad,” Bobby was saying.

“I can’t stay here,” You said aloud. “Dean has come back from the dead, why can’t I?”

You decided, at that moment, that you refused to stay dead. Unfortunately, you had no idea how to get back, or even if you could. The decision had to count for something, though. You started a mental catalog of what you’d need for research, and you could only hope that there were concrete items you could carry with you.

You decided to start by looking through Bobby’s of collection of books, pulling the ones you knew may help (from the time that you spent researching Castiel) and setting them down in a stack on the desk. You sat down and grabbed the first book in the stack, opening it. You ignored the portion about demons and hell - it wasn’t exactly applicable - and skipped instead straight to what lore the book had on heaven. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. Apparently people didn’t exactly want to leave heaven.

You were determined to change that.

You had almost gotten through the lore the first book held when the scene began to fade. The book turned to mist in your hands. “No, no, no! Damn it!”

You scowled deeply, looking around and realizing this time that you were in the backseat of the Impala. You glanced around and saw a young Sam sitting next to you - he couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. Dad was driving, and Dean was in the front seat, playing imaginary drums along with the AC/DC song that was playing.

“You did good on that last hunt, Y/N,” Dad said, and you could see him glance back at you through the rearview. “Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks, Dad,” You found yourself saying. You couldn’t help yourself - he didn’t exactly shower the three of you with compliments, especially when you got older, so it was no wonder this became one of your happy memories.

“There are some things you could have done better, though,” He continued. Of course. Dad never gave a compliment without following up with a list of the things you could improve on - though that was just code for a list of what you had done wrong.

The memory faded. You concentrated, hoping you could bring yourself to a more recent memory. Perhaps you’d be able to get access to Sam’s laptop, though whether or not you could actually get wifi in heaven was still to be determined. You were back in Bobby’s house again, though there didn’t seem to be anyone around. It was just you, and despite the fact that there should be no dangers in heaven, you grabbed a gun from the top drawer of Bobby’s desk anyways.

But nothing happened. Sun continued to stream happily through the windows, birds continued to chirp, and the air conditioning continued its steady hum. You relaxed, tucking the gun into the waistband of your pants. You pulled a book off the shelf, cracking it open and sitting down at the desk. This version of Bobby’s home didn’t seem to be a memory - at least not one that played, anyways. It was like a static version, but you couldn’t complain. It gave you time to comb through every book that so much as mentioned heaven, but you came up with nothing.

Like it or not, it seemed as if there was no way for you to get out of heaven. You supposed, then, that you’d have to find your own way out. And then you had an idea - you stood, crossed the room, and opened the door. What you saw on the other side wasn’t quite what you were expecting.

“You really are determined, aren’t you?”

You stared. “ _Chuck?!_ ”

“Surprise! Come in, sit down, sit down.” It looked just like Chuck’s real house, back on Earth. “Drink?”

“Please.” You had a feeling you were going to need it. “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

“Well, now, that’s a bit of a story,” Chuck said, handing you a beer. “See, I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved, but then Dean broke the first seal, and, well… I couldn’t just sit by and watch my sons destroy everything I created.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re talking about Lucifer and Michael? That means…” You trailed off and took a drink. “You’re God. The God. The prophet Chuck, was, what? Just a cover?”

“I had to steer you in the right direction somehow,” Chuck said with a smile. “You and your brothers are quite remarkable. Dean, back from hell thanks to Castiel; Sam, who could harness the power of demons; and you.”

“The dead one,” You said flatly.

“Castiel’s soulmate,” Chuck corrected. “Castiel has always been… unique. Even when he was young, he had a propensity for thinking for himself. Who better for an angel with free will than a Winchester?”

“In case you had forgotten, Chuck- God- whatever I’m supposed to call you - I’m dead.”

He smiled slightly, taking a sip of his own beer. “Yes, well, you’re pretty determined not to stay that way. I take it that’s what all the research was about?”

“I have to help my brothers,” You told him.

“But that’s not the only reason you want to go back.”

Your mind flickered to Cas. “No.”

“Good. Even if it was, I still have plans for you. And I _am_ sorry about Abiel - Lucifer has lead many of my sons and daughters astray. He was neither the first nor will he be the last,” Chuck said apologetically. “You won’t remember any of this, but there is something you should know. Your fight has not been fruitless. I am very impressed with you. And very proud.”

Chuck snapped his fingers, and before you could say any more, the world dissolved.


	5. Heaven on Earth

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, heaven is a place on earth! They say in heaven, love comes first, we’ll make heaven a place on earth._

Your eyes flew open. The radio was blaring beside you, and sun was streaming in to the room. You sat up, taking in the unfamiliar motel room. There was nothing in it to signify your brothers were there too - to be frank, there was nothing to signify that _you_ were staying there, either. Trying to remember how you had gotten to this room in the first place, you turned off the radio, sat up, and stretched, feeling stiff.

How long had you been here? How had you got here? You didn’t remember anything after Abiel stabbed you - surely, you should be dead. But you were fine, with no injuries and wearing clothes that showed no signs of bloodstains or any sort of injury. You stood, relieved that at least you had a gun sitting snug in the small of your back.

You poked around the room, finding nothing of real interest other than fresh mints and an unlocked safe. The fresh towels in the bathroom was unused, the beds (including the one you had woken up on) were neatly made, and hell, the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner were still there.

Determining that the hotel was empty, you decided that the best way to figure out what was going on would be to find your brothers and Cas. _Castiel!_ Perhaps he had brought you here. If he had, he was gone now. There was no point in staying, so you left the hotel room, looking around outside in bewilderment. You definitely weren’t in the same city you had been in during the mission to save Thomas. In fact, you weren’t even sure that you were in the same _state_.

However, you felt a rush of relief when you spotted the Impala, and unless it was just a coincidence then your brothers were staying in another room of this same motel. You glanced around, walking down three flights of open stairs and entering the front office. A woman looked up from her computer. “Can I help you?” She asked, not unkindly.

“Yeah, I was wondering if two guys rented a room here? They’re my brothers, one is really tall with long hair and the other is a few inches shorter with permanent resting bitch face,” You told her. “I can’t remember what room they said they were in - I’m honestly not sure if I’m at the right motel - and with my phone dead there’s not much I can do.”

“I remember them,” She said with a nod. “They were with a third man in a trench coat. He looked a bit lost.”

“Yeah, he’s my… boyfriend,” You decided on.

“How nice. Let’s see, I put them in room 256,” She told you.

You beamed at her. “Thank you so much. Have a great day.”

Leaving the office, you walked back up the stairs to the second story, taking a right before doubling back when you realized you were going in the wrong direction. 254, 255, 256! Stopping in front of their door, you could hear them speaking inside. You were about to knock when Dean’s raised voice hit your ears, easily understandable.

“You don’t think this is hard on us too, Cas? She was our sister!” Castiel must have said said something inaudible in response, because your older brother spoke again, tone just as angry. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?! You were the one with her, this is your fault!”

Sam’s voice could be heard this time. “Dean, enough! It’s nobody’s fault, least of all Castiel’s. I know this is hard, I know. But you can’t be at his throat all the time. Her death wasn’t your fault, Cas, and it certainly wasn’t ours.”

Your _death_? What were they talking about? Had you died? It wasn’t completely far-fetched. But how did you come back? You were so lost in these thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps heading to the door, and it was only when Dean stalked out of the room and straight into you that you snapped back to reality.

Dean hadn’t slammed the door, leaving the three of them free to stare at you in undisguised shock. It was only this that gave you the advantage, catching Dean’s quick movement towards his knife and catching his arm before he could hold the knife to your neck. “What the hell are you? Demon? Shapeshifter?”

“It’s me,” You said, the two of you scuffling for several moments before Sam pulled you apart. Sam too had his weapon out, gun pointed straight at your head. “I’m not a demon, or a shapeshifter, or a ghost. It’s me, guys, c’mon.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it, huh?” Dean said with a sneer, dousing you with holy water. You spit it from your mouth. “Okay, so you’re not a demon. But that doesn’t mean-”

Both Sam and Dean were sent flying, landing several feet away in a tangle of limbs. It became immediately apparent what - or who, rather - had caused this, as Castiel was towering protectively in front of you in another moment. You weren’t entirely sure if he had flown or simply ran from his spot in the motel room, but regardless he was emanating such an aura of power that even you took a step back, despite the fact that his glare wasn’t even directed at you.

“What the hell, Cas?!” Dean gasped, grabbing his knife from the floor and pulling himself up with the rail. Sam was still down, hand clamped around his now-bleeding arm which had been cut open during their fall.

“You will not harm her,” He rumbled, still glaring menacingly at your brothers.

“It’s actually her?” Dean asked, staring at you. “How?”

“I don’t know,” You said, shaking your head and shrugging. “But it’s really me, Dean.”

Dean was already shoving past Castiel as the words left your lips, wrapping you in a tight embrace. You returned it, gladly, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Damn it, Y/N. You scared the hell out of us. Damn it.”

His fingers were wound tightly into the fabric of your shirt, and he didn’t release you for several more minutes. The moment he did Sam took his place, and unlike Dean your twin didn’t speak, instead pressing his face into your shoulder much like you had done with Dean. However even that didn’t disguise the heaving of his shoulders as he cried. You didn’t blame him - you had been a mess after Sam had died.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” You mumbled, rubbing his back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” He muttered, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. “I just… sorry.”

You smiled at him. “It’s okay. You’re bleeding, Sammy.”

Sam glanced back at his arm, looking at it with something close to surprise. He pressed his hand against the deep cut. “Oh. Yeah. Hey Dean, could you-”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said.

Castiel stopped them before they could walk back in, simply pressing his fingers to Sam’s forehead. “Sorry, Sam.”

“Accidents happen,” Your twin brother said with a shrug, herding Dean back in to the motel room. He pulled shut the door behind them casting you a meaningful look as he went, leaving you and Castiel alone. The angel was staring at you, emotion startlingly void on his face.

“Cas?” You asked, stepping towards him. He moved away, disappearing with a flap of his wings, but not before you caught the emotion that flashed over his features, one that was all too familiar. Guilt.

* * *

“He blames himself,” Sam said, handing you a beer. He was probably hoping that the drink would stop your pacing. Or at least halt it for a little while. It didn’t.

“But it wasn’t his fault,” You said, taking a sip of beer as you turned to pace back towards the door. “I don’t get why he blames himself.”

“Because Abiel killed you under his watch,” Dean said. “Look, he’d feel guilty either way. If he wasn’t there, you died because he wasn’t there to save you. Or he was there and just too weak to save you. Right now, he’s clearly feeling the latter. He thinks he let you down, Y/N.”

“He didn’t- ugh!” You let out a screech of frustration. “Clearly he’s not willing to see reason.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Would you be able to?”

“Not the point. But I’ve got to talk to him, and he refuses to answer my prayers,” You said, frustrated.

“Just give him time. Cas will come around, he won’t be able to stay away forever,” Dean said.

“I’m going for a walk,” You grumbled, slamming your beer down a little harder than you meant to before striding out the door. You didn’t acknowledge Dean’s yell to be careful as your feet carried you down the hallway, no idea as to where you intended to go. Your mind was elsewhere, filtering through all that had happened in the past few hours. You began a mental checklist.

  1. You found out you had a soulmate.
  2. Said soulmate was Castiel, angel of the Lord.
  3. You got killed by a different angel within an hour of finding out about the first 2.
  4. You woke up in an unfamiliar room with no idea how you got there, only to find out that you had been gone for who-knows-how-long. (You filed this under your list of things to ask Sam when you got back)
  5. Dean was glad to find out that you’re alive.
  6. Sam was more than glad to find out that you’re alive.
  7. Castiel was refusing to talk to you now that you’re alive. Dean said that was because Cas felt guilty about letting you die in the first place.



You were starting to lose track of how many points were on your list. Running a hand through your hair, you shook it as if to clear the cluttered thoughts in your mind, stopped, and looked around. You had walked farther than you thought, it seemed, as the motel was out of sight. You were instead across the street from a playground, where children could be heard screaming and laughing. Your eyes settled on a familiar winged figure, sitting hunched over on a park bench, and your lips twitched the tiniest bit upwards. Perhaps you knew where you were going after all.

You walked across the street once it was clear, slipping into the empty spot beside the angel. He didn’t even look up, which you didn’t take as an encouraging sign. Instead of speaking, you followed his gaze towards the play set, simply watching the kids as they ran around.

“You know,” You finally said after several minutes, “I could be wrong, and as a Winchester I wouldn’t know, but I’m pretty sure running from your problems doesn’t work.”

Castiel finally glanced over at you. There was no humor in his face. “I wasn’t running.”

“So the whole disappearing act you pulled was just…” You waved a hand around pointlessly. “Remembering your Burger King coupons were about to expire?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “No. I didn’t think you’d want to see me. It’s my fault that you died.”

“Cas, none of what happened is your fault! There was no way for us to know that Abiel was one of Lucifer’s. I don’t blame you for not knowing and I certainly don’t blame you for not being able to save me.”

“But if I-”

“No buts, Cas. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes bad things happen, things that we can’t prevent, but it doesn’t mean that it’s automatically our fault. It may certainly feel like it, but it’s not.”

Castiel looked like he wanted to argue the point further but decided against it. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It happens to the best of us, Cas,” You said with a soft smile, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “Just don’t run away again, hmm? We’re a team. Whatever happens, we face it together.”

“Deal.” His blue eyes were intent upon your face, both of you drawing towards each other without entirely realizing it. “Y/N, can I-”

“Yes,” You breathed, and he bridged the gap between his lips and yours. His wings brought you closer, crowding you to him, leaving his hands free to cradle your face as he kissed you. His lips explored every inch of yours, slow and tender as if Castiel was scared that you would break at any moment. And then your fingers were tugging in his hair, and his kisses became quick and controlling and desperate, the park bench disappearing as he teleported you somewhere more private without ever breaking contact.

You needed air, but Cas didn’t mind, trailing hot kisses down your jaw as you gasped for breath, fingers digging into his back as his hands explored the dips and curves of your body. He slowed as you continued to breathe, pressing scratchy kisses all over your face and letting out breathy laughs when you giggled and half-heartedly swatted him away. “Cas!”

But you didn’t mind, because he was beaming, eyes dancing with happiness unlike any you had ever seen on him before, and if you had to chose any moment to stay in forever you knew it would be this one. You were joy and smiles and laughter, fears forgotten and uncertainties erased, certain in the knowledge that one thing was sure: you would be with Castiel forever, safe in the span of his wings.


End file.
